


let me take care of you

by brokenstereotype



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Ashton, M/M, Praise Kink, Soft and Slow Sex, Top Calum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenstereotype/pseuds/brokenstereotype
Summary: Ashton always takes care of the band. Calum takes care of Ashton.





	let me take care of you

Wednesday’s are the worst.

There should be a checkpoint for making it through half of the week, okay. A well deserved nap or at least a breakfast banana that’s not a week passed it’s death date. No, two of the longest interviews of his _life_ and a photoshoot that was bordering on offensive and invasive are just what the doctor ordered.

There’s only so many times he can fake laugh before he starts hating himself.

It’s hot outside. The kind of heat that sucks the air out of you lungs with how thick the air is. Even the hotel pool's water was piss warm at best and left him feeling even more disgusting than baking under the sun out on their room balcony for a cigarette had.

One in the afternoon on a beautiful ass day and Ashton has checked out. Thanks, but no thanks. Actually – fuck the _thanks_ , nobody gets any gratitude from him today.

“Bro.” Calum says, tossing his controller onto the table. “It’s like you’re not even trying.”

“Yeah.” Ashton answers distantly. His own controller slips from his hands and lands on the couch.

Thinking of nothing but the tight annoyance in his bones, he snatches up the pack of cigarettes on the table and stumbles towards the balcony doors. He's got a filter between his lips before his fingers touch the door handle.

 _Ugh_. It’s so fucking hot, it seems to amplify and expose his frustration by a thousand.

After patting down his pockets several times over, he realizes with a groan that he forgot a lighter. He laughs bitterly at the day. _You win. I give up._

The laugh turns hysterical for a few seconds but he doesn’t try to smother them with his hand. Despite learning how to mask his anger and less than happy feelings from being in front of the lenses' eye for the last five years, he can’t. Doesn’t want to hide his emotions away and wait for it to go away. He wants to seethe and hurt and chain smoke for the world to watch.

The sun pierces through his eyes and soul when he leans back against the wall, baring his face to the unforgiving heat. He breathes deep, imagining his lungs popping like balloons and slumps against the wall when he exhales and the lightness of his head throws off some of the anger.

Well. It’s not like he can just go back inside for the purple lighter on the table. Not when he's already committed to his stroppy _I would slam_ _this door if it didn’t slide_ act. Calum would probably laugh and then Ashton would laugh because Calum’s laugh is a fucking drug.

He doesn’t want to laugh.

So, with the unlit cigarette still pressed between his lips, he basks in his fate and closes his eyes while the sun throws its rays at him in his misery.

He’s scratching his nails against the plaster of the building, imagining climbing the walls or climbing out of skin. It’s almost peaceful.

The _snick_ is too close to his face and makes him jump. And then he’s staring at Calum's pouty face as Calum watches the flame in his hand ignite the tip of the cigarette between Ashton's lips.

Calum's so close, nearly toe to toe with him. When he exhales, the smoke wisps across Calum's face and makes his eyelashes flutter in irritation. He doesn’t look at Ashton. He stands with his arms crossed, eyebrows nearly one with how tight he’s pulling them together.

Not for the first time, Ashton imagines Calum as a bouncer and sucks another pull from the cigarette to burn away the smile.

Calum takes the cigarette once he takes a few more puffs and only when he brings the filter to his own lips does he match Ashton's stare. The ember glows and makes his eyes appear darker. His cheeks hallow around the pull and his lips separate from the filter with a small yet enticing _pop_.

Ashton swallows.

Calum taps the layer of ash off of the cigarette and blows the smoke out of the corner of his mouth. The way he watches Ashton is like he’s trying to break through the layers of anger to see what lies underneath. How they went from a morning of sleepy smiles and bed head and the residual high of doing what they love, to staring each other down a foot apart.

“Is it-“ Calum's voice is quiet, wisping away with white smoke. He doesn’t finish the thought. His eyes dance the dance of too many things wanting to be said.

_Is it getting to you?_

_Is it something to do with the anxiety you'd told me_ _about some odd drunken nights ago?_

_Is it me?_

Ashton reaches for the cigarette. He looks away to grind the ash into the wall of the building. When he tips his head back up, Calum's a lot closer than he was before. The toe of his boot nudges against Ashton's bare toes. 

"I'm just," Ashton sighs. He's just  _what_ _?_ Fucked? Annoyed with everything and nothing all at once? "I'm just tired." He says and it sounds lame and false even to his own ears. Calum nods like he's reading between the lines. And maybe he is because suddenly, he's got one of Ashton's wrists circled in his fingers, leading him inside and passed the mess of their living room. The television is still playing and usually Calum throws a fit about that, but not now. Now, he leads Ashton to the back rooms and into Ashton's bedroom, closing the door behind them.

Ashton stands in the middle of the room, arms hanging loose by his side. He doesn't know what to do.

"Tell me if you don't want this." Calum says. And then he brings a hand up to frame the side of Ashton's face, eyes focused on his lips to make his intentions loud and clear. Ashton releases a shaky breath and cracks a few of his knuckles.

"I don't-" He snaps his mouth shut and closes his eyes, not knowing how to voice his hesitation. He  _wants,_ maybe even  _needs_. But, he doesn't want  _just_. How does he turn that into words?

"This isn't just about sex." Calum says. And, yeah. Okay. That's how.

Ashton's body relaxes at the words and the trust and understanding laced within the vowels. He lets Calum's palm hold the weight of his head. There's a metaphor there somewhere, when Calum strokes his thumb over his cheek - something about also taking the weight of the world off of his shoulders. 

"Ash, hey. Open your eyes for a second. Look at me." Calum coaxes. His touch on Ashton's face is so soothing and Ashton finds it difficult to open his eyes when they feel so heavy and lazy. He wants to fall against Calum's chest and let himself be hugged. Ashton forces his eyes to open and when he does, Calum's eyes are focus and controlled. 

"I want to take care of you." Calum declares. "Is that what you need?"

Ashton nods without having to think too hard about the meaning behind Calum's words.

Calum smiles, something small and only for him. "Okay." He says. And then he slowly removes Ashton's shirt.

It's cold in the room, a chill spreading along his chest and down to his toes. He can practically feel the heat steaming off and away from his body, along with the residual anger he can only faintly feel cooling in his belly. His eyes close once more and he lets them stay that way. Right now, he needs touch more than visual.

Calum's hands smooth up and down his arms, like he's just testing for a second. Getting a feel of things. It's nice and Ashton hums in appreciation. He doesn't feel much like talking, but Calum seems to know this. He's whispering these sounds and compliments over Ashton's skin. Ashton doesn't have to open his eyes to know that Calum's moved in close, breath ghosting over the skin of Ashton's cheeks.

 _"So brave and strong,"_ He's saying, lips brushing against his eyelashes.  _"Always taking care of us, because you love us. We love you as well, so let me take care of you."_ It sounds like a song, something so sweet and beautiful. Ashton feels weightless. His feet float across the floor as he's guided backwards by gentle hands until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. 

Calum slides his hands down his chest, fingertips dancing along the ridges of his abdomen and then settle at the button of his pants. He slowly undoes the button, letting Ashton feels the press of his fingers and slides the zipper down slowly. 

"You always make sure we're taken care of." He appreciates as he removes his pants, squatting down and caressing Ashton's legs as he helps him step out of his pants. It's more intense that he can't see, only feel the touches on his skin and hear the soft breaths against his shins.

"I wish you could see how loved you make us feel," Calum says as he removes his underwear, pressing a kiss to each of his knees and then he ankles when he guides Ashton's feet out of the legs. He slides his hands up to his shoulders and lets him fall to the mattress, taking his weight with the palm of his hands.

"Want to show you how beautiful you are." He says. There's the sound of rustling fabric and clothes hitting the floor and the Calum's warm skin is sliding along his own, settling down until Ashton feels weighted and tethered to the ground. His eyes open lazily and he sees the softness in Calum's eyes, the determination set in them. They flutter shut again when Calum brings a single finger to his forehead and trace around the lines of his face, over the delicate skin of his eye lids, the bump of his nose and the ridges of his mouth.

His hands move along his skin, everywhere and back. Ashton's skin is tingly and sated, a deep sigh releasing from somewhere deep in his chest. Calum presses his lips to the skin covering his beating heart.

He's hard, more so from the words that Calum presses to his skin than the situation itself. He could lie here forever and be happy, but he knows that he needs this. That both of them need this, in a way.

Calum's mouth trails kisses along his chest and down his stomach, letting him feel the sharp intent of his teeth as he reaches his hipbones. Ashton's legs fall open and he glides the back of his hands against the soft fabric of the bedspread beneath him. The different sensations make him shudder.

Calum doesn't tease, knows exactly what this is and what Ashton needs. He open his mouth around his dick and gets himself acquainted with the salty tang of precome spilling from the head. He doesn't moan, but he does slide a hand up to rest against Ashton's heart.

The farther his mouth goes down around his dick, the farther Ashton lets himself sink into the mattress, letting the weight of his shoulders roll off of himself and tumble onto the bed around them. He can pick it up later, but right now, he feels like he can relax and let his mind run blank.

Calum tongues at him like an apology for every shit situation Ashton has had to endure. He pulls his mouth up tight and sucks like if he hallows out his cheeks enough, all of Ashton's insecurities will spill into the open space.

He pulls off slowly and keeps running his hands along Ashton's skin, kissing at the sensitive part of his inner thighs. He caresses at his legs with one hand for an indeterminate amount of time and when his other hand returns, it's with a slicked finger that ghosts at the rim of his hole. It makes him clench up involuntarily. He breathes out slowly and lets his bones go slack, putting all of his trust into Calum. There's never a question about that, he trusts all of his boys inexplicably and with everything in him.

Calum sinks his finger in and coos at him the entire way, murmuring praises and encouragement in the softest voice, it's merely a whisper. He opens him up like he's writing a story on how to make him feel loved and appreciated and it makes Ashton's heart and the rest of his body tremble. He might be crying but it's only because he has never felt more beautiful in his own skin before.

When Calum pushes into him, Ashton chokes out a sob, arms splayed out on either side of him. His body is open and bared for the taking. And Calum takes, but he gives all that he has over to Ashton and returns it with slow rolls of his hips and hands that hold his shaking body together. 

Calum takes each of his thighs in his hands and pulls them apart, stripping him of anywhere to hide and leaving him exposed. Ashton's thighs shake in his hold.

"This is what you needed, yeah?" Calum asks, not expecting a reply but Ashton gives him one in the form of a wrecked moan. Calum shushes him gently, his thrusts so perfect and marrying his insides like the perfect poem or song or  _fuck_ he's gonna come and he nearly whines in anticipation.

"I've got you. Always got you." Calum whispers. Promises. He brings a hand to Ashton's dick and strokes him lovingly, which is something Ashton never thought was possible. But, Calum's fingers are like a familiar friend, assuring and affectionate. 

Ashton's breath locks tight in his chest when he comes, and his entire body goes boneless and light as a feather when he lets all of the air in his chest go on a slow and deep exhale. Calum pulls out, not even caring about his own orgasm and lays his body out over Ashton's once again. He wipes the tears away from Ashton's face, kisses at his cheeks and nuzzles at the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder.

He wraps his arms around Ashton's body and holds tight, keeping him from drifting away.


End file.
